


The Singer of London

by olive2read



Category: Sins of the Cities Series - K. J. Charles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bathroom Sex, Karaoke as fuckbait, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 05:56:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18805102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olive2read/pseuds/olive2read
Summary: Clem convinces Nathaniel to try the new karaoke night at the Jack. Justin, a bit of a karaoke celebrity, sings to Nathaniel. They bang.





	The Singer of London

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a thread in KJC Chat, and whetherwoman suggested Justin’s karaoke selection (lyrics by Trent Reznor).
> 
> One line taken directly from the original text, the rest is my own imagining.

Nathaniel looked around the formerly private back room and failed to suppress a grimace. The younger crowd had slowly been gaining ground and the old familiar Jack just wasn’t the same with the boisterous vibe, especially now that Phyllis had introduced weekly karaoke nights. _Why did I let Clem talk me into this?_

Clem, one of his dearest friends, who was thrilled at the change and came faithfully every week, dragging his boyfriend Rowley along. Nathaniel couldn’t see the appeal of bad renditions of worse pop songs but Clem claimed to love listening to the ‘performances’ and always cheered loud and long. He’d been trying to get Nathaniel and Mark to come for ages and this was the first time he’d succeeded.

Clem caught his expression and grinned. “C’mon, Nathaniel, it’ll be fun!” At Nathaniel’s raised eyebrow Clem rolled his eyes, playfully shaking his head. “You don’t even have to sing.”

“Don’t be such a tosser,” Mark said, setting a pint in front of Nathaniel and using his now-free hand to cuff Nathaniel on the back of the head, before sitting down and taking a long pull from his own pint. 

Nathaniel opened his mouth to respond but didn’t get the chance. At that moment someone grabbed the mic and a piercing shriek of feedback made everyone cringe.  
__

After an excruciating hour, Nathaniel was ready to call it a night. He’d done his bit by showing up, he’d officially been social, and he told himself he felt no guilt or shame at throwing in the towel early. It’s not like the ‘singing’ was going to improve after these people had more to drink and he, quite frankly, couldn’t stomach the thought of another tone-deaf version of Bonnie Tyler by someone who clearly only knew the chorus – especially since, after the fifth mangled attempt of the night, Nathaniel was fairly certain he now knew the entire song, despite the ostensible singer being the only person that could see the words on the screen. It was insupportable.

Besides, Clem’s attention was almost entirely fixed on Rowley and he likely wouldn’t even notice if Nathaniel left. Mark was up at the bar, chatting with Phyllis, so - really - no one would miss him. He pushed back his chair and stood abruptly. “Well, Clem,” he began, dropping a hand on his friend’s shoulder to capture his attention. 

As Clem turned, his gaze was caught on the opening door. “Oh, he _came_ ,” Clem whispered. Nathaniel followed the direction of Clem’s eyes to find a rather generically average man, though on the slender side, with his hair too long in one of those faux celebrity flop-over-the-eyes styles and sunglasses at night, of course, though he at least had the decency to slide them up his head as he walked in. 

“Lazarus,” Clem breathed beside him. 

“You’re joking.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes when Clem shook his head. “Lazarus? Thinks pretty highly of himself, does he?”

“They call him the Singer of London,” Clem replied with unrestrained enthusiasm. Nathaniel snorted and Clem looked imploringly up at him. “Oh, you can’t go yet. You have to stay to hear him, he’s incredible. Please Nathaniel, he’s the reason I wanted you to come.”

Nathaniel groaned. “That could take _ages_ though, Clem. There’s a whole queue ahead of him.” He shook his head firmly. “No, I think I’d better call it now.” He reached for his coat and stopped at a light touch on his arm.

“No, no, it’ll be fast, Nathaniel, I promise. They always let him go ahead when he arrives, he’s just _so good_.” Clem followed this with a small, happy sigh. 

Nathaniel looked to Rowley for support, as surely he couldn’t be pleased at Clem’s sighing over another man, but Rowley just smiled fondly at Clem, not even a little ruffled.

Nathaniel sighed and sat back down, folding his arms over his chest. He couldn’t deny Clem’s pleading but he certainly wasn’t going to pretend enjoyment. _The Singer of London, indeed_ , he scoffed to himself. _I can’t believe Clem buys into this nonsense._

Turning his head just as Lazarus passed their table, Nathaniel caught a glimpse of the arresting sight of the new arrival’s eyes and inhaled sharply. They were incredible deep pools of grey, as dynamic as liquid mercury and likely just as dangerous. Nathaniel felt himself drowning, felt almost mesmerised, as though he could spend hours trying to determine how many colours shimmered in their depths.

Lazarus’s lips curved in a knowing smirk, breaking the spell. Nathaniel blinked and shook himself, hard. The _last_ thing he needed was to encourage some prick’s ego.

Instead, he entertained himself with trying to predict what sort of tripe Lazarus would choose to sing. His selection would probably be just as insipid as the ridiculous floppy hair that kept falling over those incredible eyes as he spoke to the MC. Even if he was a better singer than the others who’d tried Nathaniel’s patience tonight, average blokes didn’t tend to have much in the way of range. _It’ll probably be the latest radio hit by the most recent manufactured ‘It Girl’ everyone’s swooning over_ , he thought smugly.

The opening bars piped thinly through the speakers but Nathaniel couldn’t quite place the beat. He settled more comfortably in his chair, sardonic eyebrow firmly in place, ready to be underwhelmed.

Lazarus smiled at the crowd, his eyes roaming until they locked on to Nathaniel’s and his lips quirked, before he opened his mouth.

“You let me violate you”

Nathaniel blinked. _No. Surely not._

“You let me desecrate you”

Nathaniel swallowed, mouth suddenly parched, unable to look away.

“You let me penetrate you”

Nathaniel felt Lazarus’s hot gaze like a brand. This wasn’t happening. How was this happening?

“You let me complicate you”

Nathaniel felt himself growing hard inside his jeans and tried to subtly shift, without much success. He’d have to move to adjust and that might break eye contact and he just … couldn’t. The corner of Lazarus’s mouth curved, ever so slightly, acknowledging Nathaniel’s discomfort.

Suddenly, Lazarus dropped to his knees, clutching his chest.

“Help me  
I broke apart my insides”

He slunk along the floor on his knees toward Nathaniel, pausing at each line.

“Help me  
I've got no soul to sell”

Lazarus was halfway to him and Nathaniel realised he wasn’t breathing. He sucked in a great gasp of air, riveted. He could feel eyes on him, not just Rowley’s surprised look, or Clem’s fizzling with excitement, but everyone in the bar was watching this tableau play out. He should care, should stop this, break his eyes away and make some caustic remark, but all he cared about was the man moving slowly but inexorably toward him, as though pulled by the connection between them

“Help me  
The only thing that works for me”

Nathaniel felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face but couldn’t spare a hand to wipe it off. His hands were too busy clenching and gripping his jeans. He wasn’t even trying to rearrange anymore, he just needed to hold on to something. Lazarus stopped a few metres away, sitting back on his heels and gazing wantonly up at Nathaniel. 

“Help me get away from myself  
I want to fuck you like an animal  
I want to feel you from the inside ”

The whispered words were like a caress and Nathaniel shivered. He grit his teeth, unable to look away as Lazarus moved his lithe body with the music, eye fucking Nathaniel the whole time. 

Each time Lazarus moved his lips, or his hips, every single one of Nathaniel’s nerves responded. He felt Lazarus’s touch everywhere, as though his entire body had betrayed him. He’d never had a reaction like this to a total stranger. Hell, he hadn’t reacted to anyone in years. He’d been certain that he’d never find that again and he’d made his peace with it. No one could take Tony’s place, certainly not some karaoke-singing asshole, however pretty his eyes. 

“You can have my isolation  
You can have the hate that it brings  
You can have my absence of faith  
You can have my everything”

It was as though Lazarus was singing to the deepest, most hidden parts of Nathaniel. He’d never before desired _anything_ with such a visceral force as this. It should have felt tawdry and cheap, with Lazarus gyrating on his knees, but it spoke to something Nathaniel hadn’t even been aware he had inside him. It was awful. It was glorious.

“Help me  
You make me perfect”

Nathaniel groaned and felt his cock harden further. _It’s just a physical response_ , he told himself. _I haven’t wanked in ages and I’m due. That’s ALL this is._

No matter how firmly he declared these things in his own mind, he still couldn’t escape those damn eyes.

When the song ended, Lazarus stood and bowed amidst raucous cheers. He turned to salute the crowd and Nathaniel was finally free of the spell. He shot up from his chair, ignoring the startled looks of concern Clem and Rowley shot him, and roughly shouldered his way through the press of people, moving as quickly as he could. He was furious with himself but wanking was a physical necessity at this point. He was so hard it hurt. Bypassing the urinal trench, he slammed into the bathroom and nearly screamed in frustration when he saw both stalls were occupied. At least he couldn’t hear sounds of fucking, hopefully that meant one should be available soon. He pressed the heel of his hand against his erection, hoping to tamp down some of this misplaced ardour, and shuddered at the contact.

“Allow me,” someone breathed behind his ear. 

_Not someone,_ Nathaniel realised, _**Lazarus.**_

He found he was leaning back into the man as two hands came around him, one unbuttoning his jeans as the other dipped inside and slid under the waistband of his pants. They both groaned as Nathaniel’s cock came free and was wrapped inside a hot, tight fist. The fist pumped once, twice, and one of the stall doors opened, wrenching Nathaniel back into his head. 

_What the fuck am I doing?_ He broke free and clumsily dashed toward the now empty stall. Turning to close the door behind him, he found a smirking Lazarus crowding into the stall behind him and latching the door. 

Nathaniel couldn’t believe his eyes. _How fucking **DARE** the man?!?_ “Fuck off,” he seethed through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I fully intend to fuck us both off,” Lazarus replied. He held up a finger and twirled it in a circle. “Turn around.”

“What the bloody hell for?”

Lazarus laughed, a rich, throaty sound. “I should think that was obvious.”

Nathaniel glared at him but found his feet moving to obey. He didn’t protest when Lazarus placed a hand on his back and pressed lightly, but bent forward and gripped the handicap rail.

“I don’t like you,” he said, keenly aware of how his position undermined his statement.

“I’m sure I don’t like you either,” Nathaniel could hear the smile in Lazarus’s voice, “but thankfully liking each other isn’t a requirement.” He pushed Nathaniel’s clothes down to his knees, tapping a foot lightly against Nathaniel’s ankle to encourage a wider stance. 

Nathaniel railed against his own perfidy, clenching his fists on the rail so hard he feared pulling the damn thing off, as he accordingly shifted to give Lazarus better access. Cool, slick fingers probed at his hole. _Where the fuck had the man found lube?_

“Oh, you’re deliciously tight,” Lazarus moaned softly, working a second finger inside Nathaniel.

It felt so good to have someone touching him, preparing him, even if it was this complete tosser. Suddenly, the fingers pulled back and Nathaniel heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. He shuddered in anticipation, bracing himself for the breach, but nothing came. “What,” he began.

“Tell me you want this,” Lazarus cut him off.

“Of course I don’t bloody want you!” Nathaniel replied, indignant.

“Yes, yes, you don’t like me, whatever. But I’m not going to fuck you unless you ask for it. Your body is asking for it, begging for it, really - but I need to hear the words.”

Nathaniel took a deep breath. “Fine, then. Fuck me,” he bit out.

“You’re sure?” Lazarus asked.

Nathaniel turned to face him. Lazarus hadn’t undressed, he’d simply pulled out his cock. It seemed to glare at Nathaniel, just as angry in its lurid purple condom as he was with his pants around his knees, and somehow that made this alright. Lazarus, no trace of the smirk, eyed him steadily, waiting for Nathaniel to choose.

“Yes,” Nathaniel ground out. “I’m sure.” He locked eyes with Lazarus. “Fuck me like you promised in your song.”

The words seemed to unleash something in Lazarus, who grabbed Nathaniel by the shirt and kissed him, hard. It was a bruising kiss, full of teeth and tongues, and over as suddenly as it began. Lazarus shoved Nathaniel away, spinning him back to face the rail, and thrust inside him with a shout. 

Even with the preparation, it burned. Lazarus began to move almost immediately and Nathaniel felt himself falling into the sensation. This, oh, how he needed this. Lazarus dug the fingers of his left hand into Nathaniel’s hip as his thrusts picked up speed. His other hand roamed over Nathaniel’s body, fingers combing through the hair on his back, then gripping and squeezing. Nathaniel couldn’t keep back his moan.

“You like my hands on you,” Lazarus purred, “and you like my cock in you, don’t you?”

“Yes, you bastard. I want your cock. Fuck me,” Nathaniel cried as Lazarus slammed into him. One of Lazarus’s hands began to pump Nathaniel’s cock and he felt himself speeding toward orgasm. 

“Harder,” Nathaniel cried.

Lazarus obliged as his other hand reached up into Nathaniel’s hair and yanked his head down, arching his back so the shorter man could sink his teeth into Nathaniel’s nape. 

Nathaniel had never understood people who claimed to see stars when they came, it had always struck him as the worst sort of romantic drivel, but now he realised that it wasn’t romantic in the least. It was a result of cumming so hard he nearly blacked out for a moment, his vision spotty as he shot on to the wall and the rail. He could feel his thighs shake in the effort to maintain his stance when his entire body wanted to go boneless with the force of his release. After a few more thrusts, just as Nathaniel was on the edge of discomfort, Lazarus came with a cry that shook both of them.

They stood there panting for a few moments. Nathaniel tried to think of something to say but his brain seemed to be shorting out. Lazarus gingerly withdrew and shucked the condom into the trash. There didn’t seem to be any loo roll, so he tucked himself back into his clothes and rested a hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder. Nathaniel flinched at the contact and Lazarus chuckled softly. He patted Nathaniel’s shoulder once and Nathaniel heard him open the latch of the stall.

“Thanks for that,” Lazarus called as he walked out.

Nathaniel stood staring at the wall unable to move, to think, to react in any way.

“Hey, are you done?” A twink that seemed to be covered in glitter peered in at him from the now open door.

Nathaniel blinked. “Uh, yeah, just … give me a minute.” He slowly pulled himself together and set his clothes to rights. He walked dazedly out of the stall, cringing at the twink’s knowing wink, and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He looked as shocked as he felt. A hand on his shoulder made him jerk back and away.

“Oi,” said Mark, “calm down, mate. It’s just me, Nat. You alright? You don’t look so good.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “No, I ... Sorry, Mark, I … I have to go.” Without another word, he brushed past a stunned Mark and made his way out of the Jack. 

The cool night air felt good on his overheated skin as he walked home in a trance.


End file.
